Fantine's Positivity
by Niamh Wilson Scott
Summary: Fantine is about to die. One shot. I decided after dancing in my room to Chicago again to write about Fantine as I don't usually. I wanted a positive and maybe delusional character looking back on her life. Don't to Chicago's 'Roxie' and yes I changed the words a little. Please r and r. Ps I know it's bad, sorry.


**Ok so I know this isn't as good as my last keen and I had to change the lyrics. You can take it anyway you want, either Fantine being delusional, or the fact that (as I believe) everyone should be happy when they die, so I initially wrote this as Fantine never sees her life as good, but what if she did? Please r and r even though I know it's a little bit shit (excuse my French.)**

She knew she wasn't well. She knew what a bad life she had led, and yet, she did not want to die unhappy. The other little girl in the inn told her to always be positive as she let her daughter, Cosette cry into her shoulder when she said she had to go. She only hoped that girl, the one with curly auburn locks and brown eyes would be there for her the whole time, and she was not wrong.

Thinking back on her life, Fantine focused on the positives of everything. She had grasped the concept that the kind Monsieur La Maire was a convict as she was not stupid, which meant she would be known as the one he tried to save... Maybe even loved.

And so she sank into her thoughts, everything that happened was good. She would be know to God.

The name on everybody's lips is going to be Fantine. The lady who stole a stealers heart is going to be Fantine. I'm going to be a celebrity, wait, I am. Everyone knows the job I had in the factory, and I was famous there because none of those moody cows liked me! All the ladies on the night knew me. I was the one who sold my hair for my child and have her all that I could. It was the fault of son man. I was no grander than the rest of them, and yet I was. They took my teeth, and heat still wanted my youth! I was a beauty and all my men told me so. I was ever so popular. I'm a celebrity that means somebody everyone knows. Even Monsieur La Maire cognised my eyes, my hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose.

What could've been would've been nice. But no one would've known who I was, and I didn't want that. If Cosette's father had stayed, instead of running away, I would be some dumb mechanics wife, and not the famous Fantine. I liked it better the way my life was now. I'm positive.

Apparently my crime to the foreman was having a child and apparently selling myself to pay the extra. They didn't know that that's what I ended up doing. But hey! I got pleasure when I worked and they got just working. I defiantly got a better deal, looking back at it. Who says prostitutions not an art? I made my men very happy indeed. It was just that one idiot who mocked me everyday and then wanted my services who got the nasty end of me. I had been given time off, and still was being pains by the boss to recover as I had caught a nasty flu down at the docks. I didn't know until now that I had tuberculosis. I clawed that smut mutts face off. He made me cold, as if I wasn't shaking enough! I think I added an improvement to his face with the blood that dribbled down it. That pesky inspector had to show up but my hero and lover saved me and no one opposed him. No one, in case I didn't get arrested, said that I did it because I was mad. I could've got away with murder so long as he was there.

I will die. But at my funeral, they're going to wait and the streets they will line to get to see... Me! They would've wished I'd sighed their autographs to say 'good luck to you. Fantine x' if I could write, or read properly. Oh well, their loss.

I remember when I was younger, when I would appear with my locket on such a long chain that was the finest silver money could by, it hung all the way down to my waist. If there was one thing I loved t didn't have, it was a ring. I would go out with my friends and our lovers (Cosette's father) and I would spot in the jewellers window these lovely rings as I was forever dropping the hint for him to propose. They were on display and were also on sale, taunting me. Here a ring, there a ring, everywhere a ring. I gave him a gentle nudge, but always in the best of taste until I realised not to pressure him. Until he left me.

And now look at me! I'm a star! They love me, they love to gossip about me and rumours rip through here. I don't care because I'm known! It's better than dying knowing no one knew my name. Any publicity is good publicity. I love them for spreading the word, as I had no one to give my love to in my childhood.

And now, as I go to god, I'm finally giving up my (after reflecting on the positives, I see it this way) great but sometimes humdrum life, I, going to be Fantine. I made a scandal and a star! I will die comfortably and happy, unlike those horrible women in the factory, I have a man by my side who will mourn me and my legacy shall last forever in whispers of gossip.

So as I said, I'm giving up my humdrum life, because I am Fantine. I was a 'scoundrel' but a star! And those women who thought they were high strung will scream I know, to see their names get billed below!

So am I? Never shall they ask. I am Fantine.


End file.
